


be gentle, my darling

by redstaronmyshoulder (CaptainAmelia22)



Series: Tumblr Drabble [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/redstaronmyshoulder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgiveness comes in many forms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	be gentle, my darling

The arm was vibrating.  

He shifted in his sleep, slipping a bit further down the brick wall he’d collapsed against sometime in the early morning, and rotated his shoulder gently.

The dull ache in the joint, a constant throbbing he’d never escape-except for those blissful days when he was finally allowed to sleep-wasn’t what woke him though.

It wasn’t even the deep humming of the tech he would never understand buried in the limb that woke him.

It was the tiny “Mew?” that made his eyes fly open and his body tense as he prepared to defend himself against an attack.  

"What the-?" he snarled as his vision spun and the panels in his elbow began to activate due to the base terror he was feeling at such an abrupt wake-up.  

"Mrow."  

Two kittens-tiny and black and scruffy-huddled in the crook of his elbow and gazed up at him with some sort of wary adoration in their muddy kitten-blue eyes.  

"What the hell?" he sighed as the vibrations trembling up the arm increased and the sounds of two tiny motors reached his ears.  "Get out of here.  I’m not safe for you."  

He shook the arm a bit, in hopes that they would slide off.

They did not shake off.

He winced at the sound of tiny dagger-like claws sliding across metal and watched as those same claws dug themselves deep into the grooves of the panels of his forearm and bicep.  The kittens cried out in fear at the movement but the moment their tiny bellies once more pressed against the metal, they began to purr.

And the arm began to vibrate. 

"Okay," he muttered, his scowl slipping a bit at the sight of the highest one’s breath fogging the red star carved into the arm’s cuff; the kitten was smaller than his brother, scrawnier.  

But as the Winter Soldier watched him clamber up his arm to huddle in in the hollow of his neck and shoulder, he was struck by a faded memory.

A kid, scrawny and weak but stubborn as hell, clambering over a garbage can with his fists raised and his punk mouth full of challenges he really had no right to voice.  A kid who never stopped fighting.

The Winter Soldier’s wrist twitched at that and the lowest kitten cried out, burying it’s face in his elbow.  It shivered as it pressed itself tightly to his arm, desperately trying to keep itself safe and warm and the assassin’s scowl slipped entirely.

His eyes, wide and blank and full of a pain he barely understood, let alone recognized, gazed at the the kitten shivering in the crook of his metal elbow and he tried to keep from crying himself.  

He jumped when something tiny and wet pressed itself to his cheek and he turned his head just enough to meet the bluish gaze of the smallest kitten, perched on his shoulder.  

"Why?" he whispered as the kitten nuzzled closer and began to rub it’s own cheek against his.  "Why come to me?" 

"Probably because the arm emits heat-waves and you’re the warmest thing here, James."  

He tensed once more, this time pulling his arm tightly against his chest and as he tucked the lowest kitten more firmly into his chest and shifted just enough so the smallest one perched on his shoulder was hidden from whoever stood over them, he glanced up.  

The red haired woman-the woman he shot at just days before-was smiling down at him, her hair curly and gathered in a knot on the top of her head and she was dressed all in black. 

He almost recognized her.

Almost. 

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice nothing but a raspy whisper; he wondered if he should grab his gun or reach for his knife but he stopped wondering when he realized doing so would dislodge one or both of the tiny kittens huddled against his body for warmth.  

The red haired woman simply smiled and crouched at his feet, holding out her hand as she did so.

A small carton of milk rested in her open palm.

She ran one finger over the kitten buried in his elbow, making the tiny creature purr all the louder and as he took the milk from her she glanced up at him and smiled.

"Just someone hoping to help a few strays," she murmured.

He shivered at her words but for the first time in days…

He felt no fear.   


End file.
